The Flower in Her Eyes

I see it in her, from the distance. That beautiful girl sitting on the park bench all alone. As I approach her I notice her eyes out of everything. Of course her long hair flowing in the wind was so magnificent like waves in the ocean, her clothes fitted like a glove, her dimples making her smile all the more perfect. Even though her outside was perfect I only focused on her eyes, they are the windows to the soul, right? Her soul was beat, bruised, barley alive, but still there. Even through the dark she still has a light. Her eyes were protecting others from what she had once seen. From everything bad only showing the good. I see the flower in her eyes, it wasn’t any old daisy, but instead a rose. A rose that was so little, but showing so much. The thornes every single one showing the little glimpse of hell she went through, but they were there not only for that reason. They were there from all the times she stood in the flames fighting back, they were there from all the times she didn’t give up, from all the times she knew she couldn’t show that emotion…. That defeat. That even through the thorns and pain something beautiful still came out. The rose petals, there for every time she loved. Every single petal was dark and withering. She had felt to much that she began to feel nothing at all. The love she had felt for everyone had died and turned into thornes. Thornes of sadness from the times she loved, but never felt loved. The stem grew so high just to be filled up with thorns. As I approach her she flashed a smile at me, making me feel welcomed… but the smile didn’t last, it soon fell into the blank face I had seen before. I asked if anyone was sitting next to her, although I already knew the answer. She looked down and said “Does it look like anyone is sitting there” I couldn’t tell if this was a defence mechanism or if she was just trying to have a laugh. I sat down anyway, soon after she spoke again softer this time “… why did you come to me” I studder at the fact she would even ask that… does she not know her own beauty, but I still answer “Well… nobody else is like you. I… I wanted to know why.” she looked at me puzzled and bats her eyes. I told her everything I thought… about the flower in her eyes, everything. I talk and talk for hours with her on a park bench. It was fall and darkness fell upon us. Although as everything went dark I saw a glimpse of light. The rose that was once withering away was now full of life. Now five years later I got on one knee with a rose and a ring. “Yes” came through even through the joyful tear. In that moment there were no thorns. Just the petals and the stem. Her past was broken and her future was anew with him by her side, holding her hand. She knew in that moment what true love was. She knew that he was the one thing she needed with his warm hugs he would pick her up, his soft… I love you, his shoulder there when she needed to cry. Everything he was… was perfect in her eyes.